


They’re Waiting

by soukokuforlife14



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Endgame trailer is a murderer, Gen, I was inspired, Steve isn’t in this fic but he’s still a dick, Supremefamily twist, by my 100th time watching it, i should not be trusted to write this late at night, im so fuckin tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 01:47:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17437565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soukokuforlife14/pseuds/soukokuforlife14
Summary: Tony’s breaths were shallow. The oxygen was thin, a final veil of which that separated him from death’s cold, but final embrace.





	They’re Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. I’m tired. I’m probably going to bawl my eyes out when Endgame (stupid fucking name) comes out. I’m so fucking scared(for Tony’s life) you guys. I watched the trailer again tho and wrote this in like twenty minutes. It was quick. Tomorrow I’ll probs curse myself to hell for posting in the middle of the night again but fuck it. Hope you guys enjoy. XD

Tony’s breaths were shallow. The oxygen was thin, a final veil of which that separated him from death’s cold, but final embrace. 

He’d already said his goodbyes. His apologies.

Amazing to think that this was the end. This was the end of the road for him. Unlike how he’d felt the day prior, panic setting in about everything he _hadn’t_ done, now that the clock was only seconds away from its final tick, he felt only serenity. Calm. Relieved. 

It was over. No more fighting. No more hurting. No more guilt. Perhaps it was selfish of him to derive a type of almost happiness over that fact; but after everything? Wasn’t he allowed that? Wasn’t he allowed to be accepting and grateful for the end?

Maybe not. Nothing could be done however, so there was no point on wasting energy considering it. He only had a few moments left after all.

Besides, if he accomplished nothing in life, at least he got to glimpse the stars. He got to touch constellations. Sure, this for him was living a nightmare but at one point in time, he’d been like the many who wished to pick a star from the sky with their fingers. At least that five year old got what he wanted.

Tony’s lungs ached in ways that reminded him of his time in Afghanistan, how they burned, how they cried for breath that couldn’t come. All they received was the thinnest of air. The briefest wisp before it vanished from him. Like a droplet of water to a man who’s kidneys were failing.

It was simply too late. He was just too far gone.

“You’ll survive this Tony.”

Tony, his eyes which had been closed, alerted to the voice whispered in his ear. A promise he could’ve sworn he honestly heard. Having to fight, he got his eyes to open and found the gaze of Stephen’s own looking back at him.

Tony lacked the breath to properly greet the man. To properly apologize. To properly scream and berate the man for leaving him. For taking Peter with him.

“Mr. Stark.”

Gasping, Tony raised his head with great difficulty and found Peter sitting at his feet. A sliver of warmth slithered down his cheek but he paid this no mind, opening his lips which were dry and cracking, he wished to croak out even the smallest greeting. But he could not. This cracked something inside him. Some small, shattered piece that should’ve been beyond breaking any further but miraculously splintered into pieces that were much smaller.

His lungs expanded around practically nothing as he attempted to suck in a breath, tried once more to speak. Peter just smiled, a small little curve of his mouth and Tony realized, _this_ _isn’t_ _real_. That’s right. These two were just illusions. Not so real as to be incapable of understanding him without spoken words.

He didn’t need to say anything at all. They already knew it. 

“Tony,” Stephen whispered, drawing his attention.

It took an insane amount of willpower to look away from the Peter’s soft gaze, but the nod he received from the young boy felt like permission. He obliged, meeting Stephen’s wondrous eyes which shone varying shades of green and blue. The many nuances of these two colors swirling so perfectly in his irises one might believe them to be illusions or perhaps a constant use of magic. Amazing, the detail his imagination put into beings he saw before him. How much effort was put into the last people he’d see before being ushered from his flesh confine.

“You’ll survive this.” Stephen repeated, and Tony squinted, he wanted to tell Stephen that he’d already said that. Wanted to tell him that he should say something else, he’s an illusion after all. Shouldn’t he have been a little more tactful with his words? Maybe a declaration of love or something? But this? A promise of survival despite his fast approaching demise? Wasn’t that just cruel?

“Mr. Stark, you’ll make it. We’re waiting.” Tony turned one last time, looked at Peter and felt like the kid was better at this. Better at reassuring him. Better at telling him death’s swift cut will take him to the people he cares about most. That he has somewhere to go. Family to find.

And that eventually, the others will follow. 

Stephen shifted, pressed his lips to Tony’s temple and for a minute he was sure he could feel the pressure. The weight behindthem and the warmth of his breath when he said, “Tony, we love you.”

Tony couldn’t wipe away the other tear which slipped down his cheek, his lungs managed to pull in one last breath, as his lover and Peter embraced him.

His eyes closed yet he could still feel the warmth of his family holding him.

Tony’s chest sunk back down on his final exhale.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Tony woke it was to rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor, a blue woman who was more machine than flesh at his beside, mask on his face and a multitude of tubes sticking from his person. The sudden spike on the monitor alerted Nebula to something amiss and she immediately made contact with a nurse, pressing a button that Tony assumed was behind his head as she leaned over him muttering something he couldn’t discern.

He didn’t know how he was here. He didn’t know why he was alive, but something in him said it had to do with the illusion he saw before he thought he’d died. Before his final breath. Had to do with Stephen, somehow, the sorcerer who he’d personally watched turn to nothing but dust. The same Stephen who whispered a single promise in his ear before he’d assumed himself dead. Peter too.

He didn’t know how he’d gotten out of space with his life intact but he wouldn’t squander this chance. As he began descending back into unconsciousness he decided he’d save his family and anyone else that had been ripped so cruelly from the world in a flurry of their own ashes.

Tony would save them.

They were waiting after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos as always are lovely and very much appreciated. I will probs edit this like a mad woman tomorrow so, who knows I may change it up a lot in the morning.


End file.
